Anne van Alkemade
Stories (24/0)
Floyd
Well that just sucks. The coffee he bought, thinking it might help him to process things, teetered on the edge of the table and, in slow motion, fell to the footpath next to his table. The cup and saucer shattered, and the coffee left a Rorschach test within which he could see the spider tumour tendrils that were strangling his brain.
By Anne van Alkemadeabout a year ago in Fiction
Cop It Sweet
Although she was not running overly late, Prue was sure the white rabbit had nothing on her. She waddled out of the market, each arm sagging under the weight of a dozen shopping bags looped around fingers, wrists and thumbs. Some clinked together alarmingly as their glass contents made contact with others.
By Anne van Alkemadeabout a year ago in Fiction
The Vomit Diaries
Like my siblings and my daughter, I am prone to travel sickness. I think my siblings have largely grown out of it, but I still get it. My daughter and I dosed up on travel sick pills on our recent trip on the Spirit of Tasmania (our first time on a ship) which did the trick for us. But it got me thinking about my vomit history.
By Anne van Alkemade2 years ago in Humans
Junk
Epiphany – I like junk. Actually, I don’t just ‘like’ junk. I love it. This is not news to people who know me. It’s not really news to me either, but it occurred to me while stuck in traffic on the way to the quack the other day, that I really, really love junk.
By Anne van Alkemade2 years ago in Lifehack
Wiped
When Rose pulled up, her journey reached, she turned off the engine and sat. There was no hurry to leave the car and go inside. No one was waiting for her in there and she realised that in any case she was not obligated to meet anyone else’s expectations of her.
By Anne van Alkemade2 years ago in Fiction
Mazzarotti Manor
In the stormy afternoon light, sepia clouds gathered making promises to the dust below that they had no thought to keep. Bare branches of a lone, dying eucalypt reached towards curled shingles on a square, slatted cottage. Windows facing east were long boarded over. The grandest part of the dilapidated building was a huge chimney, the fireplace reaching the height of the ceiling line, with chimney pointing to the sky past the roof apex, almost as though reaching towards an arrow of ducks on their way to greener marshes.
By Anne van Alkemade2 years ago in Families